


Case 52ABX-32QJ

by MunchkinPumpkin



Series: This Whole Baby Thing [1]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Childbirth, Complete, Cover Art, Embedded Images, Mpreg, Not sure whether this is crack or not, Short & Sweet, graphic description of childbirth, the unsolvable case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:47:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24323023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MunchkinPumpkin/pseuds/MunchkinPumpkin
Summary: Case 52ABX-32QJ is unsolvable, or at least it was eight years ago. Jake and Terry are better cops and high in spirits, can the unsolvable really be solved? Jake seems to think so. Or is he really keeping himself distracted from a major life event?{Sequal comming}
Series: This Whole Baby Thing [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007919
Comments: 12
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Like the tag suggests, not sure whether this would constitute to a crack fic, but I think it's completely far from serious. There's not much mpreg written within this fandom, and I'm not sure why. Long-time fan of the show but this is my first piece for the fandom. 
> 
> Just an FYI, I have a super weird feeling this might be a lil controversial (not sure what the fandom is like yet), so unconstructive/unpleasant comments will be removed. I hope everybody likes it anyway, but again, if it's not your cuppa this is the final warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amazing cover art by Ilitiaforever - go follow them on instagram & twitter for amazing Mpreg and fanslash content! Ilitia is also an author here on Ao3!

Jake was napping, slumped in his chair; the back support slouched the entire way. If the chair could recline any further, it would make for the worst possible mattress. Jake had been on restrictive duty for four months and was only a weekend away from biting the bullet and taking his paternity leave. The only benefit to being refined to his desk had been how speedy he worked through case file paperwork and he’d even managed to close a few cold cases – all from this very spot.

Jake arrived close to half-past eight this morning, having just had the worst night’s sleep in his entire existence. He’d arrived early enough to catch the first batch of hotdogs from the cart outside the precinct. The hotdog guy was under the habit of throwing an extra dog his way on account of his boisterous appetite. Jake wasn’t sure why but as soon as he eased himself into his chair, all his worries and brain-fog melted away and he could finally sleep.

The squad collectively donated to Jake the best wheelie chair, the one with the finest quality padding and fully functioning adjustments. Whilst it was still relatively old, and no doubt been sat on by a few hundred butts, it didn’t smell and even retained most of its comfort. Charles had also rigged his desk with a foot sling for Jake to rest his tired, swollen feet. Together, they made up a far from the optimal, optimal sleeping spot.

Holt strode in, close to nine, the entire squad already at their desks. Holt watched as the squad barely made a noise, Rosa shuffled paper delicately, Amy punctured holes slowly and cautiously, and Gina even had her phone on silent. He approached Jake, who appeared to be dribbling slightly and in leaned close, “Peralta,” he called. Jake stirred, “go home.” Holt continued.

Jake opened his eyes; he did a double-take before noticing Holt in his personal space. Startled, he muttered, “Captain?” Jake blinked generously as his vision cleared.

“Go home, Peralta.” Holt reiterated.

“No can do, ole Capi-tan.” Jake replied cheerfully. “The Sarge and I are working a case.” He announced, picking up a file from his desk. He shuffled forwards in his chair before hoisting himself up. Holt looked to Jake for further explanation. “A case everyone foolishly said was unsolvable; Case 52ABX-32QJ,” He replied with gusto, slapping the file down onto Terry’s desk.

“Jake, Case 52ABX-32QJ is unsolvable,” Terry replied skeptically.

“Or maybe Case 52ABX-32QJ is just waiting for someone to de-unsolve it.” He put confidently.

“What’s Case 52ABX-32QJ?” Holt asked, unsure as to the case in question or the story behind why it troubled his detectives so.

“It’s a cold case the Sarge and I worked on eight years ago. Picture this, one Nate Dexter, a boat, an explosion, an obvious murder but no evidence.” He explained.

“That case almost killed us.” Terry sighed, back in the day, the two put a lot of effort into closing this case and their hard works came to no avail. As agonising as it was to put a case into storage, this one was far from being solved.

“C’mon Sarge. We’re better detectives now. We’re smarter, our computers are faster…and no more Blockbuster,” He joked. Terry rolled his eyes impatiently. “I’m feeling it.” Jake danced, swinging his engorged stomach around.

“As much as I’ve always wanted to solve that case, Jake, you’re far too pregnant to be in-field.” Terry shrugged, his arms gesturing towards the bump that was situated between them. “It’s dangerous, man.” Terry shook his head.

“I don’t see how. We both have guns, right?” Jake combatted eagerly.

“I am afraid that I must agree with Sargent Jeffords, this case seems far too perilous. Perhaps you could save it for when you return?” Holt questioned, asserting his authority.

“How about this, we both interview the witnesses, and Terry deals with the risky stuff like talking to the perps. I’ll even wait in the car.” He begged, side-lining himself. “Think about how good it would feel to finally do it.”

“I’ll entrust this matter to your capable hands, Sargent.” Holt washed his hands of the matter, Jake was persistent, the last thing he wanted was to bear the burden of a disappointed and emotionally unstable Jake. He walked away from the scene.

“What’s the best day of your life?” Jake threw out.

“My wedding day, tied with the day my babies were born,” Terry stated proudly.

“Compared to this, those memories will be garbage.” He responded overconfidently. Terry’s immediate glare made him squirm. “Okay, so I don’t have a wife, and I’m working on the second thing.” He corrected, holding his bump. “Please, Sarge. I need this, one last case.” Jake wasn’t sure yet how many weeks he would take off his maternity leave just yet, but he would feel at ease if he could solve just one more major case.

“You know Terry is a sucker for sob stories,” Terry answered, gushing. “But what I say goes, got that? I can’t have you putting yourself in danger for the sake of a case.” He ordered.

“Loud and clear!” Jake squealed. For a moment there he was sure Terry would say no and he could feel his heart being broken. Ultimately, in the end, Terry was too kind for his own good. “I gots to go potty but after that we’ll head down to Nates old apartment.” He announced. “I’ve got a good feeling about this.” He cheered, waddling across the bullpen.


	2. Chapter 2

Terry’s squad car rolled into a majoritively derelict housing estate, he recognised nothing in his surroundings. He thought that he perhaps took a wrong turn somewhere having been far too distracted by Jake’s incredibly loud duet with Taylor Swift on the radio. He stopped and checked his sat-nav, just to be sure, but was disappointed to find that they were in fact at the right location. Terry switched off the radio abruptly.

“Sarge! What was that for?” Jake groaned, having been cut off mid chorus, just before a powerful vocal climax.

“Jake, look around, man.” Terry raised his voice.

“Oh nooo~” He sighed. “Well it appears that his place was torn down.”

“You think?!” Terry turned off the ignition and stepped out of the car. “It’s all gone, there’s nothing here.” He voiced, frustrated. He rattled a metal fence that separated visitors from the wreckage site. “This is bad news, Jake.” Setbacks from the very beginning were never a good sign and he was already regretting giving in to Jake’s peer pressure.

“You’re bad news,” Jake whispered under his breath. He slipped out of the passenger’s seat, using the rolled down window for support. He met Terry’s disapproving glare, “bad news for bag guys.” He coughed awkwardly.

“This was a waste of time, Jake.” He grumbled.

“It’s just one teensy little problem, we’ll catch this guy,” Jake said. “We still have plenty of people to see, interviews to conduct and whatnot.” Jake bolstered trying to raise morale.

“You’re right, we’ve got to focus,” Terry promised himself. “What’s the next stop on our list?” Terry spoke across the hood of the car as he sat back behind the wheel.

Jake followed suit, groaning uncomfortably as he maneuvered into his seat, “why is your car so small?” He vented, frustrated at being so largely pregnant. He couldn’t wait to feel like himself again, and not spend his time perpetually uncomfortable. Terry reached over the bump to fiddle with the seat adjustments, pulling the leaver which scooted the chair backward.

“The last person who sat there was Amy.” He noted. “Better?”

“My burnt pretzel legs thank you.” He joked. “Speaking of food, can we stop somewhere and grab lunch, need to feed ma tum-tum.” Jake finger-gunned his stomach playfully.

“Now? We’ve still got so much to do.” Terry questioned.

“Not to be dramatic or anything, but if I don’t eat in the next thirty seconds, I’m gone die.” He exaggerated, intensity in his eyes.

Terry hadn’t seen that look in a while, but it was still just as chilling. He regretted opening his mouth, he should have learned by now how pregnancy turns people crazy, his wife, the love of his life turned into a monster before giving birth to Cagney and Lacey. “Alright, yeah, where do you want to eat. My treat.” He offered.

“A fat sub.” He replied hungrily, overstating the length of the sandwich with his hands.

“To-go,” Terry clarified. Together they pulled into a sandwich shop near to the jail, their next stop. “You’re not coming in?” Terry asked, as Jake sat still strapped in.

“I’m afraid if I get out, I won’t be able to get back in again. Just order me something with everything on it.” He called out the window.

“Everything?” He reiterated. Everything sounded vague and disgusting slapped between two slices of bun. Jake couldn’t possibly want ‘everything’.

“If I can chew it or slurp it, I want it in my sandwich.” He smiled.

Terry grimaced, “okay.”

It felt sacrilegious, paying for such a monstrosity, even the cashier looked at him like he had two heads. To which he simply replied, “my friend is pregnant.” The sandwich artist was far more understanding after that, and far more generous with the toppings. The Sarge eventually walked away with a pastrami and cheese sub, and as Jake wanted, a sandwich stuffed with; four kinds of cheeses, seven different slices of meat layered on veg and chilis, topped with lavish squirts of eight different sauces – including a mango chutney.

Terry left his sandwich in the bag and popped it on a back seat, he would eat when he had the time. Besides, he wasn’t entirely sure he could stomach eating his own food with Jake sitting next to him, putting him off his food. “You get me,” Jake muttered through a mouthful of sandwich. “This is fantastic.”

Terry knew that Jake had a pretty horrendous appetite. Even without being pregnant, he caught Jake eating the weirdest of things; including orange soda cereal and a ‘gummy bear burrito’ which was nothing more than gummy bears wrapped in a fruit roll-up. Jake successfully smashed all expectations and his diet became the stuff of nightmares. “I’m glad you like it.” Terry offered, grimacing. Terry frequently looked over, watching Jake enjoy his meal. At one point he spotted Jake trying to hoover, with his mouth, a piece of mustard coated chicken that dropped onto his stomach.

Terry parked up in the jail carpark, “I think you should wait in the car.” He asserted.

“C’mon Ter-bear,” Jake whined.

“Terry told you before we left, no ‘ifs’ or ‘buts’.” He reminded Jake. Terry knew it would be hard for Jake to keep such a promise, in fact, he was surprised Jake would even make such guarantees.

“Fine. Fine. But if a cannibal in there tries to eat your face off, and I’m not there to put him down,” Terry began to walk away from the car, having heard enough of Jake’s nonsense rambling, “You’ll be sorry!” He shouted after Terry.

Jake sat there for near twenty minutes before a cramp in his leg sent his lower body into a spasm. He began wiggling his swollen little piggies to no avail. When his muscles finally gave in his bladder began to ache, he took the opportunity to go for a little walk – into the jail. He signed in, and the guards on duty let him use their bathroom.

He’d taken up sitting, not standing, he hadn’t seen his junk in weeks. If it weren’t for the occasional pregnancy-induced awkward boner, he’d have forgotten it was there. The only issue was getting up from such a particularly low hight. He hated being pregnant. Every single part of it.

He had the guards take him to where Terry was conducting the interviews, even if he waited outside, rather than going in. “One of the inmates you requested was just taken to the infirmary, doctor says he was stabbed.” The guard mentioned.

“Really?” He asked, like a fish lured to such juicy bait. Jake began scheming.

The buzzer on the door rang and the guard unlocked the door. An inmate was led out, and once clear, Jake popped his head through the door. “Jake!” Terry yelled.

“Sarge…” He grinned apologetically.

“What are you doing here, I told you to wait in the car!” He called out angrily. “I should have known better, you never listen.” Ultimately, he blamed himself.

“I came in to pee, like I do every half an hour, cause I’m pregnant.” Jake laid the guilt on thickly, making Terry feel bad. Instead Terry rolled his eyes, fed up more than empathetic. “I come bearing good news!”

“It’d better be good, for your sake,” Terry warned.

“Oh, it is. Frank Williams is in the infirmary. Awesome right?” Jake exclaimed. Terry glared, confused. “Not awesome being in the infirmary, but looks like we might have leverage if we want him to talk? Maybe offer up a new cell, one with fewer shives?”

“Great idea. Yeah, maybe we got lucky.” He rejoiced.

“Somewhere away from Beatdown Boulevard.” Jake gasped, “Beatdown Boulevard, the perfect name for my new hip-hop album!” He skipped.

“Terry disagrees.” The Sarge huffed.


	3. Chapter 3

Jake and Terry skimmed over the file the infirmary gave them, “You should defiantly stay here. There’s felons walking around everywhere.” Terry noticed, looking around.

“Terry, it’s an unwritten rule, nobody’s gonna hurt me.” He pledged.

“Need I remind you that you’ve put away a lot of these guys,” Terry mentioned.

“Lucky you’re here to protect me.” Terry’s nostrils flared. “Look around you, everybody’s cuffed or worse, heavily sedated. And if I decide to drop the kid, this is the perfect place, right?” He laughed nervously.

“I’m only saying yes because it’s not like you’re going to listen.” He caved. Jake’s face lit up with satisfaction. “You’re going to stand at least a metre away from everybody at all times,” Terry warned.

“Deal!” Jake hailed. The two approached Williams, who had been double cuffed to his hospital bed. “So Hank, according to this statement you gave, you slipped and fell onto a shiv, got up and stumbled into again, another shiv. Paints quite the picture, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess you were shivved?”

“What do you guys want from me?” Hank asked, begrudgingly.

“We want everything you know about the murder of Nate Dexter.” Terry stepped in.

“What do I get if I do?” Jake had to hide his growingly smug grin.

“How’s about a transfer to another cell block, one with fewer shives?” Jake offered his plan working exactly as he’d planned.

“I can’t be sure…” Hank stopped to collect his thoughts. “I think Dexter owed money to some dodgy guy named Sam Bunsen.”

Jake turned and slapped Terry playfully on the arm, “and that is a new lead. You’re welcome.” Jake boasted. “Our first lead in eight years.”

“Yeah, I guess you were right.” Terry congratulated.

“You could at least act a little happier, this is no longer a cold case.” Jake danced, waving his frame. With one hand cupping his stomach, he began snapping his fingers and bobbing his head merrily. Out came the chorus line attached to his new hip-hop single. “Ohh~ Beatdown Boulevard, it’s the toughest street in town.” He scatted as he made his exit. Terry ignored Jake’s childish antics, in utter disbelief that this man was soon to be a father.

The two drove back to the precinct to do some digging on their new lead. While Terry did the investigative work, Jake sat back and took a nap, his feet hoisted onto his desk to stop the swelling, curtesy of his human slave, Charles. He was graced with close to an hour’s nap before Terry woke him up with an update on the case.

“Jake,” He nudged his co-worker gently.

“Five more minutes.” He grumbled.

“I can’t find Sam Bunsen; I spoke to his wife, but she hasn’t seen or heard from him in eight years.” Terry continued.

“Ughhh!” Jake cried out as he stropped in his chair. “Why does the world hate us?” He embellished. His face suddenly screwed as pain writhed through his legs, he charged up trying to grab his feet to massage away the cramp.

“I got you Jakey.” Charles hurried over.

“I bet Mrs. Bunsen is lying, she knows where her husband is.” Jake's eyes pricked, tears welling. He wasn’t sure why he felt the sudden strong urge to cry, he was used to bad news, and Terry’s briefing shouldn’t have gotten him in such a mood. He tipped his head back and pinched his eyes, trying to suppress his emotions.

“I pushed her pretty hard…” Terry said, feeling rather awkward. “She even told me she’d be up for taking a polygraph test.”

“Well, let’s bust out the polygraph.” Jake sobbed.

“Lie detector truth or dare?” Charles offered out, excited.

“No Charles,” Jake’s silent sadness turned into laughter in a complete one-eighty. “Last time we did that you ended up telling us you had a crust on the teapot from Beauty and the Beast.” Jake chuckled, his eyes still watering, now from overwhelming happiness.

“It’s how they drew her,” Charles added, defending his hidden desires.

Jake inhaled heavily, calming himself. “You’re so weird.” He said, this time with a level head.

“If you insist, I’ll give her a call and invite her in for a polygraph.” Terry shrugged. “It is a bit suspicious that her husband disappeared around the same time as the murders,” Terry added.

“You do that, I’m going to hit the head.” Jake declared as he waddled towards the gents. Jake had finished doing his business when he felt it, a small cramp followed by a thick slime that ran through his birth canal. The feeling, so alien, had him gripping the walls around him. Up until now the canal had been useless, occasionally giving off some discharge but most of the time it was glued shut. The only thing he could compare the sensation to was mucus falling through his nose. If he weren’t so conscious that he was in a public restroom, he’d have yelped.

He didn’t want to look. Whatever it was, it wasn’t normal and was no doubt disgusting. He took a deep breath and a rolled-up ball of tissue and swabbed the area. Wiping the canal was slippery and wet, his mind screamed, ‘ewie ewie ewie’ over and over until eventually, he held the tissue out in front of him. An eye slowly but bravely peeked open, but as soon as blood was discernible, the other eye shot open in a panic.

His face paled, and he began to sweat. Jake discarded the tissue and checked for further mess once he was on his feet. Sure enough a clot like a bogey slipped through the water. He gulped and flushed the evidence away. His entire body was trembling with a sickening worry, blood was not normal.

He trudged his way back to the bullpen but took a detour to the breakroom, he needed something sugary to snack on before he passed out.

“Jake?” Charles turned to see his friend white as a sheet, “what’s wrong, is it baby related?” He put down his mug and set the coffee jug back on the heat. “Jake?” Boyle asked, concerned. He watched Jake reach into his back pocket and pull out some loose cash. He tried to feed the note through the vending machine, but it was far too wrinkled, and the machine spat it back out again. And again, and again. “Here let me.” Boyle grabbed one of his own dollars from his wallet and fed it to the vending machine which swallowed it instantly.

“Thanks,” Jake whispered, his voice raspy. He pressed the corresponding buttons for a pack of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Charles frowned, Jake never ate Reese’s, his favourite was snickers bar.

“What’s going on Jake, you can tell me anything.” Charles held Jake by the arm and lead him to the sofa.

Jake took a deep breath, puffing up his cheeks as he slowly exhaled, “There was, uh…” Jake started, trying to organize himself. “Some…blood.” He grimaced, fumbling with the packet of chocolate in his hands.

“Oh.” Charles nodded his head in understanding, trying to shift through the wide collection of information he’d learned about pregnancy over the last few months. In a eureka moment his expression changed from perplexed to elated, “ohhh. Jake, I think I know what that was.” He began. “That was likely your mucus plug, did your obstetrician not tell you anything about this?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. She says a lot of things,” He continued, his mind drifting back to a hazy memory from three weeks ago.

_“Now, during the late stages of your pregnancy, I want you to be aware of a process called the ‘Bloody Show’. It’s where the mucosal plug that situates in your cervix begins to flush away as your cervical walls began to dilate.’ The doctor began to explain._

_Jake’s attention had been broken after the word ‘mucosal’, the following words all compiled to form a disgusting image, something he would choose soon after to forget. In that moment he became so lost in his own thoughts that the rest of the doctor’s explanation flew straight over his head._

_“Just make sure, that if anything like that happens you shouldn’t panic, okay?” The doctor smiled._

_Jake flashed a fake toothy grin followed by a slow head bob, “cool, cool, cool, no doubt…no doubt.” He stuttered._

“No, I don’t remember.” He admitted.

“From some extensive reading, from my understanding it means the baby should be here soon.” Charles began to vibrate with excitement.

“How soon, cause, I’m not ready. I haven’t even moved out of my mom’s place yet.” Jake rambled. Jake moved into his mom’s after the tenancy on his last apartment ran out, he promised to move out again once he’d found a family-friendly apartment to move into. He’d secured his said apartment last week but hadn’t really found the time or will power to begin the move.

“It doesn’t necessarily mean today, it could be in a few weeks, could be tomorrow…” Charles began.

“Hey, Jake, you going to eat that?” Skully asked, pointing at the melted peanut butter cup stuck between Jake’s fingers.

“Read the room!” Jake yelled.

“Sorry…” Skully backed away in fear.

Jake threw the melted chocolate into his mouth and licked his fingers clean. He rested his head on the back of the sofa, feeling emotionally drained. “I can’t wait for this to be over.” He wept, again finding himself crying uncontrollably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting a lot over the next day or two, hopefully I can bring myself to finish this soon! Let me know what you think in the comments below!


	4. Chapter 4

Terry appeared in the doorway, he coughed to announce his presence, “Jake?” he whispered loudly. “I’m going to take Mrs Bunsen in interrogation room C. If you’re going through something, I can go it alone.” Terry offered.

Jake contemplated the proposal for a moment, not completely feeling up to police work right now. However, he eventually surmised that ‘the harder the solve, the sweeter the solve’. Besides, he needed the distraction right now before he completely gave in to the spiral rollercoaster he was on, and his cart was teetering on the brink of a drop. “No, no, let's do this.” He took a deep breath, “Terry slap me, as hard as you can.” He closed his eyes tightly and braced himself.

“What? No, Terry’s not going to do that.” At the best of times, he was powerful, hitting Jake, his pregnant friend was entirely off the table.

“Fine,” Jake sighed. In reality, an ordinary spiral would have ended there, but Jake’s pregnancy filled hormonal spiral it stuck with him.

Jake started the questioning with his head intact, going through the routine lines, trying to press for new information. It was only after the sonographer revealed that Mrs Bunsen wasn’t lying; she apparently hadn’t seen her husband. As a precaution, Terry let Jake begin the line of questioning again. By the end when the results were unaltered, he began to get wound up. “Okay, please state your name one more time,” Jake demanded, punching the table, in a controlled vent of his pent-up resolve.

“Are we really doing this again?” Mrs Bunsen replied, rolling her eyes. “It’s like the fifth time.”

“The fourth time!” Terry scowled at Jake and shook his head, “please, continue.”

“My name is Sophia Bunsen, and I haven’t spoken with my husband in eight years.” She picked up the picture in front of her, “this is Nate Dexter, a friend of my husband. I had no idea that he was dead,” She glanced between Terry and Jake to make sure they were still following, “My husband didn’t kill him. I guarantee that’s impossible.”

The sonographer nodded, proving her story to be truthful. “Good…but not good enough! Let’s do it again!” He screamed.

Terry had been holding the leash far too leniently and now felt the need to interject, “Jake, what’s going on with you? She passed the test.” He shook his head disapprovingly.

“Or maybe,” Jake rolled his head, thinking. “She’s in cahoots with him?!” He pointed assertively at the sonographer. “Are you two cahooting? Hmm?” He pressed, raising his voice.

“Jake! It’s over man, we had a lead and now it’s dead. It happens.” Terry argued back.

“If it’s not you, and -I’m still not convinced it wasn’t you,” he pointed between the accused. “Then it’s the machine. It’s broken.” He said definitively. “Strap me in, Sarge. I’m going to test how truthful this device of truth really is!”

The Sarge rolled his eyes, Jake was pushing his luck. He said yes, taking the perfect opportunity to get Jake to clear his mind. Once all hooked up, Terry began asking Jake some questions. “Is Jay-Z really your favourite artist?” He asked, starting off with something light. “Or is it Taylor Swift.”

Jake scoffed, insulted. “Of course, it is. Why, would you even think that?” He mumbled.

“Lie.” The sonographer read.

“See, it’s busted.” He replied defensively.

“So your favourite artist is not Taylor Swift?” Terry asked, for clarification.

“No.” He shook his head vigorously.

Terry looked over to the sonographer, despite knowing the answer, “Lie.” Satisfaction washed onto the Sargent’s face.

“Alright, she is!” His voice cracked, “she makes me feel things.” He continued.

“She makes us all feel things, Jake!” Terry answered back. “Look the machine is fine.” He said angrily. “Answer me this, why did you want to take this case? Was it really because you wanted to, or was it because you’re secretly scared and this was a much-needed distraction?” He alleged, having complied all of the evidence he’d witnessed throughout the day.

“I wanted to work the toughest case we had,” He paused, not wanting to relay the fragile innermost workings of his mind.

“Why?” Terry spoke softly. “I don’t know why you wanted to spend the entire weekend working this case, but I’m a minute short of going home and being with my family.” He warned.

“I wanted to work the case because it would be awesome to solve it, a real man wouldn’t run from such a challenge.” He lied. He wasn’t sure why he lied, Terry was a friend, one he should be able to confide in. A mental wall he was hiding behind was holding strong, and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t kick it down. He was an emotional cripple. It was one thing to cry over a television advert of horses running across a beach, but an entirely different thing to pour his heart out.

“See you tomorrow, Jake.” Terry collected the articles from the case file and got up from his seat. He stormed out, having been pushed to his limits. The sonographer helped Jake out of the equipment and too left, leaving Jake alone in the interrogation room.

There he stewed in his own thoughts, kicking himself for being such a coward. The only way he could make it up to Terry and stop feeling so guilty was to continue and close the case. Terry meant a lot to him and didn’t deserve to be dragged around trying to make him happy. Filled with a renewed sense of determination he got up and reached for the door.

Hand on the door handle he was stopped by a sudden painful pressure that warmed his lower back. “Oh.” He groaned softly. He stood completely still as the pain flushed to his front, turning into a small twinge. The pain lingered for all of about ten seconds before floating away. He was used to odd aches and pains and so dismissed it.

He dipped into the room behind to review the interrogation tapes; it was a starting point to see if they missed anything subliminally. He made it through one entire run-through having not seen anything in particular. “This chair is super uncomfortable.” He rocked back and forth trying to adjust the seat as his back began to throb again. “What is with me today?” He stressed. “Can you just stop whatever you’re doing already?” He yelled at his bump.

Before he knew it time had ticked by and it was now close to midnight. When the pain hit again it was significantly more substantial. Until now he could rock his way through it, and they went away pretty quickly. This time it took his breath away, and he had to remind himself to breathe through whatever it was. After it ended his stomach growled, “yeah, I’m hungry, that’s it.” These were hunger pains. “Mama’s gonna order some zaa.” He cheered whipping out his phone.

He sat in the breakroom waiting for his delivery, he didn’t want to sit around the night-shift squad because they really ‘bumbed him out’. Another painful episode crept up on him and he found himself shaking his legs and breathing through the palms of his hands until it was over. He knew it was probably a bad thing to do, and would ultimately make him worry more, but he began to google his symptoms.

 _‘Pain at 36 weeks’_

_‘It’s not unnatural that you should be experiencing lower back pain…’_

_‘What you could be experiencing are Braxton-Hicks, or ‘false labour’…’_

His search results proved a much-needed relief. The panic slowly eased away and just in time too as he heard the pizza delivery guy call across the precinct. Jake slapped the guy twenty for the pie and his tip. His kid, who’d been inactive for most of the day provided a prompt kick to the ribs, “Y’all need to chill.” He spoke to his bump.

Half-way deep into his pie and the familiar pain waved across his body. Feeling more confident this time, knowing what it was, he rode it out. It was in the aftermath of the pain that it hit him, an idea, zapped into his mind like a lightning bolt to a tv antenna. “What if she really doesn’t know where her husband is…” Jake whispered to himself. He dropped his half-eaten slice and got to work.

The hours went by, his pain growing and becoming borderline insufferable. He was now standing hunched over his desk, head resting on a stack of files. Lowhank approached, looking concerned, having been watching from afar. “Jake, I don’t want to appear too nosey, but you seem to be in a lot of pain.” He put delicately.

“Lowhank, I swear…” He breathed out, unable to finish his sentence.

“Okay, I just thought I would check-in. Is there somebody I can call for you?” He asked softly, not wanting to stress Jake out any further.

After an audible exhale he stood upright. “I’m great.” He smiled, his face looking pale. “You could do me one favour if you’re up for catching bad guys.” He dangled a sticky note with a name and address written on it.

“Sure.” He agreed.

Jake had cracked the case, and if Lowhank could bring in this pivotal piece of evidence, they would have their smoking gun. Jake eagerly drafted Terry a text; _‘Wassup Sarge, get in as soon as you can, it’s an emergency._ ’ Satisfied, he pressed send. He just hoped that Terry would see the message and hurry over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapters are going to be 'big ones'! Keep watching for updates.


	5. Chapter 5

It took Lowhank an hour to bring in their key witness, and when Jake saw them being hauled through the precinct he almost jumped for joy. Nate Dexter alive and in the flesh. His excellent detective skills were unrivalled. “Bring him to an interrogation room.” He said triumphantly. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you.” Jake glared at Dexter, waving a finger in his face. 

  
Jake took a moment behind the door to let out all of his ecstatic energy. He boogied and cheered as ferociously as he could, only to compose himself as he opened the door. Case file 52ABX-32QJ slammed onto the interrogation table. Jake sat in the chair opposite Nate Dexter, the only person he never expected to meet. “So, you’re looking great for a dead guy.” He teased. 

  
“Yeah, well…what can I say?” Dexter shrugged, before crossing his arms across his chest. 

  
Jake took notice of Dexter’s every micro movement and happened to catch a glimpse of Dexter’s right hand, “show me your hands.” He instructed. Dexter slammed his hands out in front of him, rolling his eyes. “I knew it!” Nate was missing his right index finger. His body refused to celebrate. His back twanged and his stomach became hard. 

  
“Man, are you okay?” Dexter asked, uncomfortable with Jake being in so much pain. 

  
“Yep, I’m thriving.” His breath shaky. Jake decided to walk the pain off, walking laps across the two-way mirror. 

  
“Are you, you know, in labour or something?” Dexter questioned. 

  
“No, it’s those Black-lax-plaxs…” He stuttered, having forgotten exactly what the false contractions were called. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll be asking the questions.” He redirected. “Do you know Sam Bunsen?” He asked. 

“I might.” Dexter replied. 

  
“Funny, because it seems as though you’re currently dating his wife, thoughts?” Jake dropped the bomb. He watched Dexter become irritated. “Ah, ha!” He cried with vindication. “See, I have this theory. Stop me if I’m wrong but, I think you do know Nate Dexter. He was the only thing standing in-between you and Sophia Bunsen, the love of your life.” He hinted, “and the only way you could win your dream girl was to erase the man in the middle. You killed him!” Jake yelled, “and left your finger at the crime scene to obscure the evidence.” 

  
Dexter had been made, “I did it for love!” He pleaded. “He was abusive and didn’t deserve her.” Dexter continued, trying to explain his wrong doings. 

  
“Eight years, and this mystery is suddenly de-misted!” He cheered. Case was closed, and now he was suddenly overwhelmed with an extreme tiredness. The adrenaline had run out and his whole body felt at ease. Jake gloated before leaving interrogation, “and that’s how it’s done.” 

  
The time was now six o’clock, and he hadn’t slept yet. With how high the case made him feel and the pain he was in, there was no way he could have possibly slept. “Goetzman, you can go home, I’m going to be here until day shift.” He said to his night shift desk buddy. 

  
“Alright, look after yourself.” Goetzman replied. He had already been kicked from his desk and had been wondering almost aimlessly between his co-worker’s desks all night. 

  
“D.W.” Jake gave him a double thumbs up, slumping into his desk chair. Goetzman knew better than to adjust the settings after Jake went off on one, one morning. It was not pretty, and needless to say, Goetzman was spending each night in fear. 

  
Ten hours in pain. No longer were the pains irregular or intermittent, now they were coming in ripples of five-minute intervals, lasting at least a minute each time. Jake was worried as the pain was insufferable. He paced circled around his desk, took breathers out on the balcony, and found himself throwing up once or twice. Each of the night shift staff came to his aid at least once or twice but Jake’s attitude became volatile, shooing everybody away. 

  
Terry arrived around half seven, his phone waving furiously in the air. “I’ve been calling for over an hour, what was so important that you couldn’t answer the damn phone?” He stressed. Jake looked up from his desk, his face moist from sweat and condensation having buried his face in the crook of his arm for too long. Stifling the agonizing exertions. “Holy Moley, what happened to you?” He asked. 

  
“I haven’t slept, was too focused on the case.” Jake moped his forehead with his forearm. “I got to watching the interrogation tapes again, and Sophia didn’t know who killed her husband, but she did know something way better.” He revealed. 

  
“Oh?” Terry quizzed, confused. 

  
“If you could just,” He held out his hands, needing Terry’s support out of his chair. Terry eased Jake out of the seat and to his feet, “you’re so strong.” He admired, squeezing Terry’s biceps. “Follow me.” One hand on the small of his back, he directed Terry to the room behind interrogation where Nate Dexter still sat. 

  
The pain rushed to his mid-section, feeling ever so like somebody tightening a corset way passed its limits. He hunched over the desk rocking himself slowly, hands stretched out in front of him, supporting his weight. “Jake?” Terry was concerned. He placed a palm on Jake’s back, and began stroking it. 

  
“Terry Jeffords,” he persevered, “allow me to introduce to you,” Jake let out a pained groan. “our not-dead, murder victim, Nate Dexter.” He finished, sighing heavily as the pain finally passed. He turned up the light, removing the two-way effect in a spectacular reveal. 

  
“What the hell is going on?” Terry felt as though he’d stepped into a mad house but sure enough, their ‘victim’ sat cuffed to the table just on the other side of the mirror. 

  
“Sophia didn’t know who killed her husband, but I was just not asking the right questions. She hadn’t seen her husband in eight years but was positive there was no way he killed Dexter. Which got me thinking, what if nobody killed Nate Dexter?” He rushed, not sure when the pain was going to strip him of his autonomy again. Jake hit the intercom button, “Hey, Nate, we’re just talking about how you’re still alive. Say hi!” 

  
“Yeah, I’m still alive.” He shouted in response. 

  
“Then whose melted torso did we find?” He asked, still perplexed. Jake raised his browse, trying to prompt some deeper thought. “Sophia’s husband.” 

  
“Bingo! Nate here killed Sam Bunsen to be with Sophia. Wild right?” He exclaimed. He pressed the intercom again, “Now I’m telling my friend about how you killed that guy.” He gloated. 

  
“It was for love!” Dexter called out. 

  
“Cool motive, still murder!” Jake joked. “And you know that severed finger we found?” He noted, “Nate, how’s about you show us your hands?” Nate held up both hands, a finger obviously missing, severed purposefully. 

  
“Oh-ho!” Terry cheered. 

  
The pain began building again, breathing through the climax Jake responded, “asked all my CIs whether they hand any dealings with a nine-fingered man, and walah.” Jake finished. 

  
“This is unbelievable, you did it!” Terry celebrated, his upper body dancing merrily. 

  
Jake reached out with one hand, grabbing Terry’s forearm, “one more thing,” He spoke, his voice hoarse. “You’re going to need to take me to the hospital.” Terry stopped moving. “My water just broke.” Terry looked down at the dark stain on Jake’s jeans, the two looked up at each other exchanging a look of sheer panic. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited birth of Baby Peralta!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've been warned, whilst this into altogether too graphic, it's still detailed. So if birth squicks you out, turn away now and read from the next chapter. 
> 
> Let me know what you think guys, and whether you have any name suggestions. I haven’t really settled on anything. I don't want to do the canon-typical thing and name the baby after a character from Die Hard.

Jake changed into his sports bottoms before being escorted to the parking lot. Inside the car Terry put his key in the ignition, “are you ready?”

  
“No, Terry!” Jake cried out, panting through another crippling contraction. “I’m scared!”

  
“You’ll be fine.” He reassured. Terry drove the entire way with his sirens blaring, and reasonably breaking the speed limit. 

  
Jake gripped the handle above his head, “this hurts so bad! Don’t ever do this Sarge.” He wept. He held his breath and screwed his eyes closed baring down through another rampant contraction. 

  
“You gotta breathe man.” He reminded Jake, “you’re going to pass out.” He emphasized. Terry pulled the car into the women’s health car park of the Brooklyn Methodist Hospital, unclipped Jake’s seatbelt and move round the car to help Jake out of his seat. 

  
“I don’t want to move, what if the baby just slides out onto the floor?” Jake wailed. 

  
“Jake, this isn’t animal planet. It’s not just going to fall out.” Terry knew Jake was naive, but not that naive. He slipped an arm around Jake’s waist and hoisted him out of the car. “Just hold on tight.” Terry reminded. 

  
“Somebody should call Charles,” Jake mentioned, “I think he’d kill himself if he weren’t here for this.” Jake smiled. 

  
“Sure, let’s get you checked in first.” Terry admired how Jake was handling himself. He wasn’t screaming, and he wasn’t yet in tears, and he could still find the energy to smile. As the two made it through the automatic doors, Terry announced, “My friend’s having a baby, he needs medical attention now!” 

  
A nurse came over with a wheelchair, “how far apart are the contractions?” he asked. 

  
“Not sure, I-“ Jake began. 

  
“They’re about four minutes apart, maybe less.” Terry informed the nurse. “He’s in quite a lot of pain.” He added. 

  
“Have your waters broken?” The nurse followed up. 

  
“About thirty minutes ago.” Jake answered. “The pain got worse after the water…finished…you know.” He replied bashfully. 

  
“Good,” The nurse began to wheel him away.   
Terry followed closely behind as Jake was taken to the maternity unit. “I’ll check you in,” He informed, approaching the nurse’s station. “Do you have your bag?” He asked. 

  
“Ohh, nooo…I left it in my drawer.” He said, disappointed. “Tell Boyle to grab it on his way here. It’s got my birth plan in it; I don’t have it memorised.” Jake realised. 

  
“Not to worry, we should have a copy of it on file.” The nurse smiled. “Do you remember whether you wanted pain relief or not?” 

  
“Yeah, course I want the drugs. This shit’s painful.” Jake laughed nervously. 

  
He was taken to an empty room and given support to put on his hospital gown. Jake was strapped into a foetal heart rate monitor that ran across his stomach. Before he could settle down comfortably, he stood swaying through another contraction. “You’re doing really well.” The nurse comforted. “Do you want something to drink?” 

  
Jake shook his head, unable to speak through gritted teeth. As he was standing, gravity sent a second trickle of amniotic fluid down his legs. As soon as the pain eased and he became aware, his cheeks flushed a vibrant red. “That was definitely more body water.” He asserted, too proud to have even a stranger believe he peed himself. 

  
“I know.” The nurse laid a towel across Jake’s bed, “here lay down. The doctor will be here in a minute to look you over.” The nurse assisted Jake onto the bed and made sure he was comfortable before leaving. 

  
Jake was on his own for only a few minutes, but it was enough for the reality of the situation to sink in. Strapped to machine, wearing an already soiled gown, in an unfamiliar clinically clean room. He was having his baby, there was no contesting that. In a few hours, he’d have a new life clinging to his arms. A mouth to feed, to rock to sleep, to teach to walk and talk, to support with their homework…but most importantly, to love. 

  
“Sorry for the delay, but I’m here.” His midwife strolled in. “It’s only been two weeks since we last saw each other, I didn’t expect to see you back so soon. But that’s okay, some little ones are just impatient.” She smiled. 

  
“Isn’t it a little too soon?” Jake asked, worried about giving birth so prematurely. 

  
“You’re almost thirty-seven weeks pregnant, and your baby is healthy as far as I can tell. I’m confident that you’re going to do perfectly.” She beamed. She looked carefully at the heart monitor results that had printed in her absence and nodded enthusiastically. “I will need to take a look at how far you’re dilated, if you don’t mind.” 

  
“Not exactly sure I can say, ‘no’.” He joked. 

  
“Unfortunately, not. I’ll be gentle.” She said, snapping on a pair of rubber gloves. 

  
“Haven’t heard that in a while.” Jake countered cheekily. He had just enough energy in his legs to prompt them up. The midwife rolled his gown down to his hips. He took a deep breath as he felt the tips of the midwife’s fingers breach his canal. All sense of humour went straight out of the window as he tried to look anywhere but at what was happening between his legs. 

  
Just like that it was over, it had been uncomfortable but brief. “Perfect. You’re about seven centimetres. Not long now.” The midwife pulled off her gloves and threw them in the medical waste bin. “I’ll check back on you in half an hour, but if you need anything you can press the red button on the remote and I’ll come back.” 

  
Jake nodded, feeling slightly vulnerable after the midwife’s exploration. As she left Terry came back in holding a packet of crisps and a bottle of water. “I checked with the nurse and he said this was all you could have.” 

  
“Water? Terry, do you not know me at all?” Jake teased. “Thanks, I am snackie.” He took the crisps and tore open the packet. He was just about to nibble on the first pinch when another contraction took hold. Terry attempted to reach out, but Jake extended an arm, trying to block him. 

  
Terry stood there helpless as Jake huffed and puffed. “So, I got hold of Charles. Almost shattered my ear drum though.” When Terry broke the news, all Boyle could do was scream with happiness. “He said something about having a back-up bag. So bottom line is, he’s on his way.” He relayed. 

  
“Carry on.” Jake choked, needing the distraction. 

  
“Well…I also called Capitan Holt, who said to relay his regards. Amy and Rosa must have heard the news because they both sent over a text promising to drop in on their lunch break. For now, the Capitan can spare the two of us, and he’d call again if something were going down.” 

  
“Good, cause I don’t think I can do this on my own, Terr-bear.” He pleaded. “What about my mum? Did you call her?” 

  
“I did, no answer, so I left her a voicemail. I also called your father on the off chance he was in the area. Turns out he’s in Fresno. So, it’s safe to say he’s not going to make it.” Whilst he wasn’t expecting his father to be there for him, something about Terry saying it out-loud was soul crushing. “I’ll keep trying to get a hold of your mum.”   
“Thanks Terry.” It meant a lot that his friend was by his side. 

  
Charles arrived just after the midwife came back for a follow-up. He was getting closer, but not quite ready yet. She assured him that it wasn’t too much longer, and he was making impeccable progress. She also asked him to think about whether he wanted pain relief, because pretty soon it would be too late even if he changed his mind. 

  
“When Cagney and Lacey were born, the nurse who administered the pain medication stabbed Sharon in the spine at least ten times before getting it right,” Terry began. Upon seeing Jakes visibly alarmed face he backtracked, “but that’s not to say yours will be the same…” 

  
“Jake!” Charles rushed into the room. “Sorry it took me so long; I drove as fast as I could. Pretty sure I started a road traffic accident, getting over here.” He panted, out of breath. “And then the reception desk gave me the wrong room number…anyway, I’m here and I didn’t miss it.” He celebrated. 

  
“Yeah, still pregnant.” Jake replied sarcastically. 

  
“You don’t mind if I film this do you? I want to be able to show it to my kids one day.” Charles asked, taking out his digital camera. 

  
“Charles, that’s absurd.” He retorted. 

  
“I didn’t hear a, ‘no’, so say cheese!” He aimed the camera at Jake. 

  
Jake gave Boyle two thumbs up and a toothy smile before another contraction came on. They were about two minutes apart now, and sometimes overlapped. He was exhausted already, and the contractions were entirely overwhelming. He couldn’t speak and he barely remembered to breath as they came and went. 

  
“I’m so glad I brought my camera.” He whispered to himself, capturing the miracle of birth. 

  
Another half an hour rolled by and the contractions seemed never-ending. He tried walking around but his legs were almost like jelly and could barely support his weight. He tried getting onto all fours and rocking his body back and forth, but the momentum only made him nauseous. 

  
Jake pressed the red button; he couldn’t handle any more of the pain. Within the next five minutes, his midwife was back in the room. “Doc, you gots give me them sweet sweet drugs.” He breathed. 

  
“You can have the pain relief if you really want it, and I won’t judge you if you do choose to have them, but you’re doing so well without them.” She advised. 

  
“Yeah, Jake, you’re doing amazing.” Charles cheered. 

  
“I can’t even catch my breath,” He said weakly, shaking his head.

  
“Okay, if you want the pain relief, you can have it. I’ll get it prepared for you right now.” The midwife smiled. She dipped away for only a moment and returned with a vile and a needle. 

  
Jake watched as the needle approached, seeing how long it was made his face pale. He gulped as she picked it up from the tray and removed the cap. It was just before she broke the seal on the pain relief that Jake interrupted. “No! Don’t.” The Sarge’s story began running through his mind. A needle that size, going directly into his spine, the very idea made him woozy. “I can do this,” He bit down on his lower lip and nodded lightly, he was sure of his abilities. He could fight through the pain; it would all be over soon anyway. 

  
The nurse took the tray away, “Let’s see where we’re at now.” The midwife put on a fresh pair of gloves and sat at the bottom of the bed. Her fingers once again inserted into Jake’s canal. This time he wasn’t concerned, overthrown with another contraction. “I think you’re ready. I’ll suit up, and when I come back you should be ready to start pushing.”

  
Terry and Charles were called out of the room, “are either of you the father?” the midwife asked. 

  
“No.” came a reply in unison. 

  
“Then I need you both to decide which of you is coming in, I can only allow one of you.” She broke the news. “You’ve both done a great job at looking after him this far.” 

  
“Charles, you go. I know this probably means more to you than it does to me.” Terry sacrificed. 

  
“But you’ve been here from the beginning.” He noted, seeing a dilemma between what was right and his own personal feelings on the matter. 

  
It was then that Jake’s mum, Karen burst onto the scene. Her first words were, “did I miss it?” Her movements frantic. 

  
“No, he’s just about to start pushing.” The midwife explained, “are you Jake’s mother?” 

  
“Oh, thank god,” She sighed. “I am, I’m the proud grandmother.” 

  
“Great, please wash your hands and meet us inside.” Terry and Boyle exchanged looks of defeat. Neither had better claim to be inside that room than Jake’s own mother. “We’ll see you boys on the other side.”

  
Karen washed her hands, flicking the water as she hurried to see her son. “I’m here, Jake. I’m here.” She rushed to his side, grabbing one of his hands, kissing it ferociously. “I hope it’s not been too painful.”

  
“Walk in the park, you know, if said park was actually filled with barbed wire and hot lava.” He replied cynically. Boyle watched through the window in the door, pressing his camera against the glass. Even if he wasn’t in the room, he wasn’t going to miss a single second. 

  
“Don’t worry sweetie, it’s almost over now.” She laughed. “And I’ll have my beautiful granddaughter. Isn’t that fantastic?” 

  
“Super.” He huffed. Another contraction, this time accompanies with the urge to push, swept through his senses. His body felt like it had a mid of his own, “okay, okay, okay…” he whimpered. The next twenty minutes were agonizing as the baby made its way through his innerworkings and began to expose itself. 

  
“She’s got brilliantly dark hair.” The midwife explained. His baby’s head was poking gently out of it’s meshy prison. “You’re doing brilliantly.” She comforted. 

  
Jake was tired, he could barely muster enough energy to sport a smile. Having barely slept, and approaching hour thirteen, there was nothing left in him. “You can do it honey,” his mother comforted. “You know, when I was in labour with you, it took close to eighteen hours. Just as your head popped out, it sucked straight back in.” She made a suctioning sound for emphasis. 

  
Jake was too weary to respond with anything but a head nod. As the next contraction came along, he leaned forward, gripping his knees. He couldn’t help but begin to cry. He came at this contraction with so much gusto he had to scream. “Good, just a few more like that.” 

  
It was entirely frustrating that each push wasn’t the last. All he was looking out for was that typical wailing meaning his daughter had made it into the world. He wasn’t sure he could carry on much longer. “She’s beautiful already.” Karen encouraged, taking a peek under the sheet. 

  
Meanwhile, Boyle continued to record through the window and Terry sat on in the waiting room down the corridor. He waved over Amy and Rosa who were looking around a little lost. “Has it happened yet?” Rosa asked. 

  
“No, not yet. He’s been pushing a while now; it shouldn’t be too much longer.” Terry informed the two. 

  
“How’s he handling it?” Amy enquired, looking sympathetic. “I know he’s not too good with pain.”

  
“Terry can’t see anything through the window.” He told them. “Jake’s mum is in there with him, and Boyle’s standing at the door trying to record it all.” Rosa and Amy both looked towards Boyle, down the corridor. Both overtly disgusted. 

  
“I heard you solved your case.” Amy added, trying to distract them. 

  
“Good one Sarge.” Rosa commented. 

  
“Jake did most of the work. He cracked the case, despite being in labour the entire night.” Terry gave the credit where it was due. 

  
A further twenty minutes passed by without any news, Amy and Rosa were about to leave when Boyle called out, “guys come here, quick! It’s happening.” The rest of the squad hurried to the door to witness the miracle of birth. 

  
“Push, push, push…come on, you’re so close.” The midwife coached. Jake felt dumb, every part of his privates was on fire and each of his limbs were limp. He let this contraction pass without pushing, he had no more fight left in him. “The shoulders are in my hands; I just need one small push.” 

  
“You can do it Jake!” Charles yelled through the door. Jake looked over; he could see the faces of his friends crowding the forty by forty windowpane. 

  
“99!” Terry cheered to boost morale. 

  
The rest of the squad responded with a hearty, “99!”   
Jake smiled, shaking his head, tears running down his cheeks. ‘Those dorks’ he thought to himself. As the next contraction came on, he focused all of his energy on pushing. Teeth clenched, eyes drawn, he anchored down and pushed. It was oddly satisfying feeling the baby’s body slip from his own. In that split-second post push, his whole world slowed down, and his mind became oddly sharp. He saw the midwife holding his baby, from this angle all he could see was the back of her head, he desperately wanted to gaze upon her beautiful face.   
Cutting through this momentary euphoria, the midwife announced, “it’s a boy!” 

  
That comment snapped Jake out of his out-of-body experience, “a boy?” He whispered. The midwife brought his son up to his chest, the cord still attached and placed it in his arms. “It’s a boy.” Jake said to himself, looking at the stunningly purple infant in his arms. He was covered in thick mucus and blood, but Jake didn’t care. He kissed his son’s forehead tenderly. 

  
“Oh, son.” Karen began to cry; she was just gifted a beautiful grandson and couldn’t be happier. “He’s perfect.” Happy tears streamed down her face.   
The midwife put a clip in the cord and stood back, giving Jake ample time to relish in the skin-to-skin contact. His son began to fidget and even wale.

“Looks like he’s breathing fine on his own.” The midwife smiled. It was always a risk; the baby having been born early. 

  
Emotional, happy, and tired were all an understatement. If he could let this moment last forever, he would never want ever again. “I know you thought it would be a girl, but this this little guy needs a name.” Karen pointed out. 

  
“I don’t know, I feel like no name would be good enough.” He smiled down at his son. “Oh, I could call him John McLain!” He said excitedly. Karen’s eyebrows met in the middle in disbelief. “I won’t, I just need some time to think.” 

  
“Grandma, do you want to cut the cord?” The midwife handed over a pair of scissors. 

  
“I’d be honoured to.” She cut the cord, separating father and son. “I’m so proud of you.” She gave her son a wet kiss on the cheek. 

  
“Let’s get him weighed and looked over, and you can have him back in a moment.” The midwife carefully took the baby out from Jake’s arms and passed it along to the nurse. Already he felt empty, like there was a whole in his heart. “And you still need to deliver the placenta.” 

  
“What? What’s that? And why does it sound so gross? Is it as gross as I think it is?” He overacted, beginning to panic. “Is it painful?” 

  
“Don’t worry, it’s just the empty sac your baby lived in. I’ll give you a simple injection and it’ll be out in no time.” She laughed. Whilst it was uncomfortable and the end result was insanely disgusting, he was thankful that it wasn’t as painful as the rest of it and it was over relatively quickly. He’d made the mistake of looking at it and no matter how grizzly he couldn’t take his eyes off of it until it was discarded


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking about maybe turning this into a series with some post-mpreg single father Jake? If anybody is interested. 
> 
> I was also considering covering season 7 as a sequal where Amy and Jake have a baby, just mpreg? I know it's kinda re-writing canon but I'm really hooked on BB9 mpreg at the moment.

Once the whole ordeal was over and the nurse had helped him clean his nether regions, they gave back his son. He was just as stunning clean as he was covered in gunk. "Hey little guy." He gently rocked his son. He hadn't noticed before but now his son's eyes were open he could see how dark and sparkling they were. He could stare into them all day and never get bored.

"Do you need some more time, or can we let your visitors in?" The midwife asked, signalling her job to be done. "The one with the camera is especially eager."

"Oh, that's just Charles." He'd completely forgotten that Boyle had been recording the entire process. There was no amount of money in the world that could get him to delete that file, but there was no way he would ever re-watch the beautiful mess that was childbirth. "You can let them in."

The midwife opened the door and his fellow squad mates fell through. Charles drove in, getting the first up close exclusive with the new mama. "Aw Jake she's like an angel."

"It's actually a he." Jake informed them. Terry pulled the pink princess balloon behind his back awkwardly. "In all the scans, they told me it was a girl, but I don't know how they could miss 'this'," he pulled back the blanket revealing his son's little tackle. "Everything I brought is pink." He admitted.

"He's beautiful," Amy cooed, "I told you, I've owned that." The squad laughed at Amy's embarrassing blunder.

"Sarge?" Rosa frowned, uncomfortable seeing Terry blubbering as violently as he was.

"What? Terry loves babies!" He sobbed.

"Okay." Jake said. "He is perfect, not to toot my own horn or anything." He boasted looking smug. "Terry, a quick word of advice. Don't ever agree to this. It felt like my asshole was about to prolapse for a second there."

Jake's vivid description made the entire room uncomfortable, "Don't worry, I won't." he reassured. "Have you picked a name yet?"

"Oh, Jake, don't say it's something Die Hard related. As much as I love you-" Charles began.

"No, don't worry. How's about we spit ball some?" He suggested, "I'll go first, Jackson?"

"Liam?" Amy suggested. Everybody shook their heads.

"Andy?" Rosa posited.

"No, that's awful. What about Immanuel?" Terry dropped.

"He's half an hour old, not ninety." Jake laughed, "ugh, don't make me laugh." He squinted. His whole body felt like one giant pulled muscle. "Max?" Heads shook. "Keanu?" The response wasn't great.

"Well, what were you going to call the baby if it'd been a girl?" Amy began. "Maybe there's something close to that, but more gender appropriate?" She commented strategically.

"Katelyn. Doesn't really lend itself to any other names." He said. Suddenly his eyes began gleaming, his enthusiasm peeked, "his name up in lights, Raymond. Little baby Ray-Ray!" he squealed. "Huh?" He looked to the others for approval.

"Jake..." Rosa said, prompting a reality check.

Amy studied the baby's face, "How about Griffin, Finn for short?"

Jake took a moment to think, staring lovingly at his son. With a soft touch he wiped a mess of hair to the side, straightening his son's fabulous head of hair. "Amy," He paused, "that's majestic as hell. Griffin Peralta, gladiator extraordinaire, I mean, something totally normal I'm sure." He laughed nervously.

"So, when do you think you and Finn will be able to go home?" Amy asked.

"He's a little small cause he was born a lil early. He's breathing on his own at least, but the midwife wants to keep him here for observation. I don't mind all too much cause I feel like any minute now imma slip into a coma. Childbirth is exhausting." He answered desperately.

The nurse walked in holding a bottle of prepared milk, "if you all wouldn't mind giving Jake a moment alone to feed the baby?"

There were no objections other than Boyle who asked, "let me just get a few shots of baby's first meal." He begged. "It's an unforgettable moment, the bonding between father and son." The nurse helped Jake support his son with a pillow.

"Boyle you're making this awkward." Jake mentioned, being distracted away from the nurse and their instructions.

"Sorry, carry on." He whispered loudly, fading into the corner.

"Make sure that you keep the bottle upright." The nurse instructed.

"I don't know if he's doing anything..." Jake looked up, concerned. "Shouldn't he be, you know," he smacked his lips around, mimicking a baby drinking. "I've never done this before." He automatically defaulted to blaming himself.

"Try moving the teet around a tad, if he can't find it, that should stimulate his suckling reflex." It took everything in his will power not to laugh at the word 'teet', especially when used in the same sentence as 'suckling'. Still, he did as he was told. "See, he's a hungry fella."

"Oh, thank god." He sighed peacefully, his first win.

"I'll be outside if you need me." The nurse said, positive Jake could handle the situation on his own.

"So, Jake, what's it like to be a papa?" Charles asked, beginning his exclusive interview.

"I can't describe it. It's petrifying, I'm responsible for raising an entire human, but at the same time I love him so much already. It's like when you meet a puppy for the first time and want to squeeze it because your heart is so overwhelmed, you know?" His heart could not be any fuller, it was borderline ready to explode.

"This is probably the second-best day of my life, after meeting you of course." Boyle concluded. "He looks exactly like you Jakie, even got that cute little chin dimple, he's going to be such a babe magnet."

"You don't have to put so much mustard on it." Jake said uncomfortably. "But he hella cute." He followed sassily.


	8. NOT A CHAPTER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cover photo has been added to the first chapter of this work! Please check it out. There is no actual story update - although a sequel is coming soon.

Hi all! 

A cover photo has been added to the first chapter of this fic! Please go ahead and check it out. This chapter will be deleted sometime within the next 7 days. The purpose of this chapter is purely to notify those who have already read the fic, that there is more fic related content. 


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